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SEPTOBER 2008
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Same guy, different krep...
Father Knows

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All commentary Copyright Stonestead.com, 2007. No part may be reproduced without permission. All statements within are the express view of the author and not necessarily those of his employeer, his clergy, his spouse, his friends or even himself.

Well, well. What's this, but a big ol' bag O' email. Or at least it would be, if email came in bags, so I guess we're talking in metaphors here. You know the type of thing -- 'bags of email,' 'comedic theme,' 'quality blogging' -- all the usual metaphors you find at this site.

But now it's time to answer the email, so here goes: No. No. HA! - funny, but no. I'm sorry you were offended and that's not what I meant. Yes. The negative squareroot of Pi isn't an imaginary number so much as it is an unimaginable one. Yes, Pokemon IS gay for a man your age. No - those kinds of thoughts about your teacher aren't normal and you should stop breaking your medication in half before you take it...

*WHEW!* Glad to have that behind me. Now for the more general inquiries:

I meant his little brother, you freaks. The little guy - the pipsqueak, as I've started to call him - is The Bink. And to argue against the idea that "he's always watching," would be to assume that the kid is blind, deaf and living in a bubble on the far side of Mars. (I would have used a ringed outer planet but that would have launched the next apology and we might never get out of this loop.)

Well he's not, he IS watching constantly and he learns from everything he sees; good or bad. Let's hope he's learned to say, "I need a potty!" in Wal-Mart before he decides to soak through his shirt, his shorts, his shoes, his sibling, the shopping cart and the lower decks of the Nostromo. I suspect he'll be OK in time...

ALL THE NEWS THAT'S GIVING FITS...

As news rolls on and people roll their eyes - or should if they're not already - I have to report on something I haven't reported on: the looming "financial crisis!"

Does anyone want to guess as to why I haven't already barked my opinion like a dog chained on a busy street? Well, as with many of the world's worries the answer is the same: I just don't care.

We bank at a local credit union, so when I hear that a large banking firm is low on cash reserves? Don't care. Is it possible that my local branch will run short of cash? Maybe, I guess. But banking regulations are still different enough, (I think), that my local branch and it's many affiliates in the area, (possibly the only example of weakness being in numbers?), are still holding enough cash and/or faith to keep the doors open, the ATMs powered and the debit card functional.

So I just don't care about the rest.

Oh sure we have a mortgage but we're more than current in that we have a history of pre-payment, so I'm not worried about that. If things go as badly as the idiots on TV predict and the entire county collapses into the New, Greatest! Depression! Ever! (Not at all likely), the mortgage people will be so busy foreclosing on the deadbeats that it'll be years before they can bother to be bothered with us. So I just don't care.

Part of this goes back to something I wrote months ago that I coined The Stone Index: what are your chances of getting a second-row parking space at your local Wally World or Target? If you frequent a fast-food establishment, what are the odds of them getting your order right or you seeing the same face at the window from week to week? Do you know your local butcher, or do you figure there's no point in trying to do so because they rotate out faster than a NASCAR drivers tires?

See? We're keepin' it REAL here...

Just think about it for a minute: will your grocery store still be open come November? Will you still have a job at the end of the year, (not the SAME job, but A JOB?)? Will the shelves be stocked with the latest Elmo/Sports toys and whatever the latest technology in Christmas trees will bring? Well, of course they will.

Now I have to admit that I have a heart and will genuinely feel for those of you whose credit card companies start jerking you around because of what's happening in the markets at the moment. Then again, there's a HUGE part of me that wants to say...

Well, you know what I want to say, so I won't say it. I'll just mention that not even one single credit card bill has followed us to this new address, but I won't credit it to the newness of the address nor the level of competency of the USPS; we earned that right. We deserve some sort of credit for cutting those cretins off at the beanbag and I won't be shy about expressing that. (Obviously.)

As for those of you who owe a balance on a credit card, I would only tell you what I'm going to do myself with my mortgage: When and if the company goes kaput and the debt goes bankrupt and is eventually bought by someone else, I'll continue making payments, but into an escrow account I will establish at my own branch. The money will be transferred/paid in a timely manner which will establish a payment history which can only stand in my favor should I ever face a foreclosure hearing, and I'm sure I'll emerge whole.

I just don't care: I've budgeted for my house payment, right? Why would I stop making it just because the company's been bought out?

As for the recent, failed Bill That Would Save Us All? It wouldn't have worked anyway and we'll find that out as the next version passes. But I just don't care.

I'm sorry if I've set some of you at odds with my beliefs, but I'm deadly serious: I just don't care. If people who shouldn't be borrowing money are no longer allowed to borrow money then EVERYone has been done a great service. And I can't see a need to bail out people who should learn the harsh lessons of those who went before them in similar circumstances.

And yes, I'm a heartless bastard. Except I know who my father is.

The bastard.

(Except not, but You know...)

OK. Sorry 'bout all that. Last week was one Hell of a week but probably only because I made it so; there were issues about my manhood at question, questions about my issues of Manhood Today around and men questioning me at every turn. Well -- OK. It was a single man, but it was me. And I have to admit that even I'M an important factor in my life.

Who knew?

But I've included the "lost file" from last Friday - up to and including the J.O.T.W. - as well as all the tepid/insipid commentary I had hoped to include at that point. It's all funny only to me, because so much of what I said then is just as meaningless no, unless you know what I do. And you don't. And not even I know it, to be honest, so it's all crap!

Like always...

At any rate, if you've read the other site you know that potty training around here has been going well and with any luck, by the end of the year I'll no longer be crapping in my pants. The boys - on the other hand - are doing very well and we hope to do away with 'pull-ups' until they're in high school football. And by then it will mean something very different.

A note on that - before we go any further: Sunday was a long day to wrap up a long week and start what I hope to be a very short one. "M" and I spent our entire Saturday afternoon grilling up steak which was to be served at church. For up to 200 people, so that's a whole bunch of steak!

Well, we got it done and bagged and ready to go and we even arrived in time to get yelled at for helping to put it all out, (long story for another time). The family had lunch - sans the server - and we all went down the hill to Wally-World to pick up a few things before the start of the week.

Along the way, D-MAN told me from the back seat that he needed to go potty. I told him we would be at the store soon enough and we'd do it then. In a word? HA!

I never remember these things unless my bladder is personally involved. And even then I have to consider the strategy of how such a maneuver will be accomplished: should I hope they have a family bathroom? What if they don't - should I take "M" into the men's, (NO!, BTW)? So she should stand at the sinks in the women's while I spend the requisite 25 minutes tending to each boy as they decide to alternately stand or squat and usually produce nothing more than an hour more of gray to my hair?!?

Fortunately, no; D-MAN has become rather 'efficient' in his trips to visit Big Hungry Joe, (no magazine for him!) even if his little brother remains slightly unsure of what exactly is happening there.

The good news, then, is that he's putting his fluids where polite society would like them to go. The bad news is that he told me WAY too early about his need for such a facility...

BECAUSE I FORGOT, OK?!? There. I said it. He told me way too early for my needs and just early enough for his needs that he was able to hold out long enough to remind me once we were well into the middle of the store. In fact, as we were cruising the aisles trying to figure out where Venezuelan apple-scented shoe-repair kits might be, (housewares? footwear? Imported goods?), The Bink told me that, "D-MAN is wet."

This shook me slightly, because I started to wonder how he'd know. Was he running a contest of some sort? Were they secretly developing that psychic link that I always feared they would? Was The Bink in fact in charge of when his brother urinated? I had to know!

Well, when we left the store I knew instantly; the boy was soaked from nearly-head to toe -- and he was wearing shorts! I guess when you hold back a bladder-full and then have no alternative but to let-'er-rip where you stand, you're going to soak something. And probably yourself.

And the little guy is always watching...

Can we PLEASE just end this week and put it all behind us? No? Well, I was pretty well prepared for that answer. Which is why I've prepared this official response:

Whatever...

This week has been a sample of sheer Hell on a scale I haven't experienced since my first marriage, (HA! - never pass up the opportunity for the easy joke, right?). Which reminds me that maybe - Just maybe - I'll have to call my daughter's cell, unless she reads this, remembers our former home number and somehow miracuously dials it up on her cell. Thereby making this entry entirely meaningless.

As if she needs to chime in to make this krep meaningless...

(Just a quick note: I LOVE my daughters with all my heart; Step-or-be-damned, they were MY kids for a time and I'd love to have them back in my life. I'd even go so far as to help them search out their bio-Fathers if need be. And not just because it could prove to be future-practice. I wanted them whole then and I'd love to be a part in helping them to be whole now.)

There's nothing more meaningless than a half-finished blog posted as if it were a great piece of art. The good news is that I never - BUT NEVER - pretend that I've created something great or artful here; it's just the same old krep day after day with the occasional influx of something that hints at something more. Thus was yesterday's post meant to be...

Details are available with a singe, well-defined click, (Can you tell that my more natural nature has already kicked in?), and you're always free to ask me for more.

Okay. Done with that. Done with this week, done with this krep and if I end up on the other side as the homeschooling/responsible/Stay-At-Home Father, then I'll count it as being at least one step closer to my goal.

But only if you buy my book. I'll include a link once Amazon carries it.

J.O.T.W...

After having dug to a depth of 10 feet last year, New York scientists found traces of copper wire dating back 100 years and came to the conclusion, that their ancestors already had a telephone network more than 100 years ago.

Not to be outdone by the New Yorkers, in the weeks that followed, in California an archaeologist dug to a depth of 20 feet, and shortly after, headlines in the LA Times newspaper read: 'California archaeologists have found traces of 200 year old copper wire and have concluded that their ancestors already had an advanced high-tech communications network a hundred years earlier than the New Yorkers.'

One week later, The Knoxville News Sentinel, a local newspaper in Tennessee, reported the following: After digging as deep as 30 feet in his back yard in Knox County, Tennessee, Bubba Graham, a self-taught archaeologist, reported that he found absolutely nothing. Bubba has therefore concluded that 300 years ago, Tennessee had already gone wireless.

Let's celebrate the passing of Spring into Fall by forgetting all of this ever happened in the first place. And maybe I'll have a special edition once we're all back at work next week...

Well, well. When I sat down to "pen" this post's effort last night I was at my wit's end. Of course, that assumes that I had a "wit" to begin with and that at some point I could be so familiar with it that I would eventually know where it ended and would in some way end up standing at that point. I didn't and wouldn't know where to stand if a blind director walked up, asked me to smile for the camera and rapped me across the shins with his cane.

Just so you know where I'm coming from...

But today spreads sunlight in a way that nobody would ever expect. Just check out the 'Motherpage' of my 'Father Knows' site and you'll quickly see what I mean: By which I mean that you'll quickly see my ugly mug staring back at you because I've somehow managed to become a "featured" blogger. This means that My blog - complete with my pic - will be featured across every

I've just caught a whiff of things that are about to change everything I know about everything. I can't imagine it would really change things completely - because I'm human and tend to believe that things will always stay the way they always have been, and since I'm married to The Wif I can't imagine things happening quickly.

But sooner or later things happen and kids move between circumstances. Which is to say that if all goes well I'll be teaching kids. Which was my dream from long-ago, even though I never completed my formal training.

More of that to follow. Even if The Wif suddenly comes downstairs to "catch" me in the effort. Not like Google is self-aware and every search is reported to our betters, although we'd probably be better off if Google was on it's own.

But then again, what would be the point?

Well, not woes exactly. Just stuff that needs a common header to bring some false sense of cohesion to a site sorely in need of the real thing. Think of it as New Coke: the answer to a question that nobody asked. Or just think of it as a random thought that popped into my fingers as I was typing the code that makes this page.

And yes, yesterday was an example of how much somebody can suq if they really put their mind to it. Thing is, I had heard from a few of you that the week I spent on holiday earlier put you off reading almost entirely, and I learned that I'd better create some new content if only to keep you in the habit. Of course, that doesn't apply to everyone but I figured I'd better put a few new 'graphs online lest I lose the rest of you.

The other thing is, this could very well end up being another one like yesterday; I'm absolutely exhausted; sick/tired/cranky kids tend to wear on one's nerves and mine could inhabit the poster, lately. BUT! I've got 3 things going for me at the moment:

1) The kids are in bed. Not asleep, mind you, (for I can hear The Bink kicking the wall next to his bed), but at least tucked in.

2) The Monday night game is pretty competitive. Or at least it was until just a few minutes ago when San Diego scored another touchdown. I HATE having to root for FAV-RAY and it will probably haunt me for most of the remainder of the evening. AND...

3) The Wif cooked some kind of new dish for dinner. It was chicken (natch. Any more and I'm going to start growing feathers), but it was a "faux bleu" wrapped in pastry and smothered in a cream which was smothered in basil. Now, I love basil, but it is apparently indifferent to any suffering it might cause me.

As if rooting for FAV-RAY wasn't enough to turn my stomach, he has to recruit The Wif and her new dinner to lasting effect. I'll be up all night...

I've finally figured out how to rig the Netflix and I'm having a great time with it. I have long since given up on the idea of watching my movies in the family room; the kids are always walking in and I'd really rather not have to explain why one guy is cutting the fingers off another guy if I can help it. Alien Vs Predator? Fine by me - they're not likely to experience any of that in real life. I'd just rather they not yet understand how brutal one man can be against another. I'll save that for later, thank you very much.

So instead - and now that I have a computer with a DVD player upstairs - I catch a few minutes now and then in our bedroom. But it gets better. I recently discovered a copy of a DVD recorder software I had some years ago and I put it to a new use. I now record my movies to my computer and I can watch them whenever I want to. Even better, the Netflix offers about 20% of their catalog, (from what I can tell), for online viewing. This means that I can record the disc on the day it arrives, put it back in the envelope and drop it at the post office a half-hour later, get the next movie on my list two days later and watch a movie online as I wait.

I have got this thing down COLD! Soon I'll be up to speed with all the latest releases. I hear MGM has this little thing called "The Wizard of Oz" that's all the buzz. I look forward to seeing it...

If you know me personally then you know that I'm not exactly "politically correct." I generally say exactly what's on my mind with the understanding that I can apologize for it later, if need be. Or not. Screw 'em, right?

Now, I'm about to mix two stories - already started, frankly - because they're irretrievably bound and I think it's worth it. But you'll be the judge of that.

From nearly Day One with the kids, The Wif has threatened them by saying, "I'm going to take you to the glue factory." Of course they have no idea of what she means by that and she doesn't exactly go into the details of how their little hooves will be ground up to make the glue, but it was a humorous thing to hear.

Then, on the way from from church one day I was winding my way through various neighborhoods when the kids were getting loud and crazy. Eventually "M" asked where we were going and I told them I was going to sell them to "the gypsies." Even without ANY knowledge of what gypsies are, they were all scared to death. It was a genuine threat.

Of course, by now it's just a joke; Where's Mommy? She probably sold herself to the gypsies. And we all have a good laugh until Mommy comes home with one big hoop earring and a bandanna over her head...

So we're waiting for my Mother to bring the kids home Sunday night when the doorbell rings. Thinking it was the remnants of my family, I open the door only to find... two people carrying clipboards and wearing obama pins. Knowing where this was headed I decide to indulge them as much as possible. They asked if The Wif were home and I say "yes" as I close the door to keep my dog from gnawing on their legs. They then tell me that they're "walking the neighborhood" for obama.

I tell them to "keep walking." The Wif can't believe I actually said that, but I did. "We'll put her down for McCain, then?" I said yes, although I was thinking that they could put her down for a ham sandwich. Looking back, I probably could've had more fun if I told them to count on our support and asked for several bumper stickers and yard signs. Why not, right?

And THEN... earlier tonight The Wif was peeing on my parade by spelling out all the many and various ways we had to spend this "free" paycheck we just got; the bills are all paid, no mortgage payment is due before our next check and we could finally get our emergency fund back up to snuff. But NOOOOOOO! She claims to need new tires and is unnecessarily bothered by the fact that my truck shimmies like Charo whenever I apply the brakes. Fortunately, it doesn't come up all that often.

She then kicked me in the teeth by saying, "...and in a month? When we're down to just one car...?"

At this point I would normally offer to trade her to the gypsies for a deck of playing cards. Instead, I told her I'd sell her to the obama people.

If only I hadn't already scared them away...

OK - so my weekend went as follows, (as if anyone cares): Friday, my day off and the boys didn't wake up until clear until 8:19. Usually they're up right around 8:00, (excellent internal clocks, my boys), which left The Wif & I 22 minutes to discuss how late the Knuckleheads were sleeping in, which in turn meant we weren't sleeping in anyway.

Well, I'm guessing about what she had to say about the boys sleeping in, because I was pretty well asleep. So at least one of us tried to take advantage of that 22 minutes while the boys discussed their options so far as tearing their room apart. Thankfully, they were quickly distracted by the presence of breakfast bars and sippy cups full of water, so they left the other options behind.

And then The Wif went to a concert.

No joke: she had the Co-Wif, Code Monkey and She Who Will Not Be Named come to the house, inspect the children fresh from their naps and carry The Wif away in a fit of supposed rapture. Or at least the Rapture Yet To Come. Which didn't...

Friday night/Early Saturday morning: I'm tired. No -- I'm asleep! She comes in and announces that one of the opening acts, (Montgomery Wards), was great but she was greatly disappointed by her Boyfriend.

Toby, it seems, was a bit more worn down than he had been in previous shows. I suppose I could have guessed that by the fact that I heard the doorbell right around midnight.

Naturally, I didn't answer it. That would have been too obvious...

And now, just to get everyone in the mood...

What do you get when you cross a vampire and a snowman?
Frostbite...

Why do witches use brooms to fly on?
Because vacuum cleaners are too heavy...

How do witches keep their hair in place while flying?
With scare spray...

What do you get when you cross a werewolf and a vampire?
A fur coat that fangs around your neck...

Why don't skeletons go out on the town?
Because they have no body to go out with...

What do ghosts add to their morning cereal?
Booberries...

Sure they're rather pedestrian, but you ain't seen nothing yet...

OK, so I'm finally starting to realize that there's just WAY too much going on in the Presidential campaign to comment on every day. I just don't have the time to cover all the slime and slanders, not to mention the Gaffe-A-Minute Machine that is the obama/biden ticket; criminey, I could make a full time job of just covering those two Bozos, if I could find a way to make it pay.

And that's another thing: I'm sensing that most of you just don't give a darn for my political insight. Sure we're only 40-some days away from the election - FINALLY - but I guess we're just not close enough yet for most of you to pay attention. Which is to say that you're never going to pay attention and will poke the chad for whomever makes you feel the fuzziest come November.

Fine. It's a free country and the tradition of a well-informed electorate be damned...

I'll just say this and then get to the kid updates, (which almost suffer from the same condition - too much to report); the people who hacked Sarah's personal email account, as well as those websites who posted contact information for her family and friends and family pictures are absolute scumburgers. I'm certain the law is lagging in this area but these lowlifes need to be made an example of. There's probably nothing that can be legally done - except perhaps a civil suit - but I personally believe that this is akin to when the Feds arrest those pimply teenagers who create viruses in their mom's basement in Wisconsin; usually one of the terms of sentencing is that they aren't allowed to access a computer for a period of time.

May I suggest 9 years as a suitable period? That should cover two terms and Sarah's campaign for President. And if these Philistines need computer access to do their job? Well then they get fired and will have to find gainful employment scratching their opinions into rocks on the side of the road.

Hey - should'a thought of that before you hacked her account there, Skippy.

We seem to be moving by leaps and bounds as far as the potty training goes and I'm just surprised by which child is showing the most progress. Mainly because Binkenheimer was showing the most interest for the longest time, but I guess D-Man was paying attention on some level because he's really shown great progress of late. He's gone in on his own and, um... gone and he's been wearing big boy underwear for the last 3 days. Heck, he even went to day care in underwear today and came home in the same pair.

So that's definitely progress. And as great as that is, I'm looking forward to more in the coming days. I also look forward to the day we can donate the diaper genie to the Mountain Area Pregnancy Center, (a worthy cause if ever there was one, BTW).

Strange, but when it looked like there was going to be no end in sight I didn't mind changing the poopy diapers (so much). Now that there seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel I can't stand messing around with their messes. Funny, huh?

Oh, and on a related note, I can't believe that not a single one of you commented on closet badgers. Seriously - are you guys feeling OK? I thought for sure that would at least get a raised eyebrow through the email. Especially from those of you who have, know or are married to a little boy. Then again, maybe since I didn't mention that I'm once again writing for my Father Knows blog you guys missed it. I find that hard to believe since my last post got 400 views, meaning that SOMEBODY was checking in on it, but maybe nobody from this site?

Today I discovered an interesting little devotional I'd like to share with all of you. Even if you're not an ardent believer I think you'll enjoy this:

Dear God, You have created a beautiful world
and you share it with me each day

Yet sometimes I see people who don't appreciate this gift.
They waste and litter. They damage and misuse.

I don't want to be a part of this.

Please help me to lead others by the example that I set as I care for your gifts.

Help me to really appreciate the beauty that surrounds me.

Amen.

I read that and I thought, "what an interesting approach to one's faith." "What a great way to express belief such that it might be a decent witness to those around you." "What is that doing on my lawn?"

Yep. Came home from the store with D-Man this evening when I saw what looked like a recipe card lying on my front lawn so I asked the boy to pick it up for me. You can imagine how long I laughed after I saw what it was...

I think I've achieved a rather laudable goal: a one-day turn around on a Netflix. I was aided by the fact that the mailman delivered before 6 pm and the additional fact that The Wif was in training Tuesday and arrived home - kids in tow - rather late. Add to that the fact that I decided on a rather easy to prepare dinner, (french dips and leftover spaghetti alfredo), and a somewhat short movie and there you have it: two movies delivered in as many days. Hopefully.

As for the movie, it was Tresspassing, or Evil Remains, depending on whom you ask. (It was apparently filmed under one title and released under another. Sounds like a divorce situation if you ask me, but nobody did.) It's your typical "haunted ground drives people crazy and they kill everyone around them" flick. A sole survivor of the latest excursion onto the territory is thought to have gone crazy and killed all their friends, although there's the very real possibility that it could be the guy that killed his family there 20 years earlier. Ooooohhh, spooky...

Of course, since the ground is haunted and causes everyone on it to reach for the nearest axe, it could be the milkman for all we know. Or care.

There's a pair of brothers who are slightly at each other for reasons we later learn involve their father! Oh NO - whoever heard of such a thing?!? There's a friend\housemate who's playing an even more annoying Hawkeye Pierce and you're almost glad to know that he dies first. Then, for color, there's a pair of lesbians about which I only remember that the cuter one was a runner, which helped her avoid the killer.

Well, at least once anyway.

I got the rare privilege of scaring the krep out of both my boys today. Now you hens in the audience are all clucking away right now, I'm sure, but scaring the man-cubs is Daddy's job -- nay, obligation -- so that they may better scare their friends and eventually sons.

Circle of Life, Simba...

I was at Target with D-Man when he was distracted by some "talking" dashboard statuettes with his back to the Halloween masks. Well, you can guess what happened next and I'll only elaborate further by saying that I probably set back the potty training by a week or so.

As for The Bink, take one candy dish animated with a hidden skeleton hand, add M&M's and permission to take two and the rest writes itself. Thankfully, Mommy was standing by the chair to catch the boy as he tried to run away.

Good stuff...

I was also looking for a Scooby outfit for M. She's bound and determined to go as Scooby, unless she can go as a devil. Or perhaps a ghost. So you can see why I'm eager to find a Scooby outfit so I put this thing to bed.

And I did find one! Except it was a 3T, which is roughly her little brother's size so that just wouldn't do. I decided that since the little guy suits seemed to be collected in the aisle I was currently in, the older kids' costumes had to be close by and we (D-Man & I) turned the corner to the next aisle.

HOLY SMOKES! Yes, there were older kids' costumes on the next aisle but can you say Slut-O-Rama?!? A french maid's outfit? "Sexy Pirate?" "Serving wench?" For EIGHT YEAR OLDS?!?! What the HELL has happened here? I have a little girl who's content to dress as a talking cartoon dog and I'm given the choice of anything I'd like so long as the skirt barely covers her ass?!?

Guess what she WON'T be going as...

So Sarah, (as she will heretofore be known; one name and one name only. That's all she needs and she will enter that rare group that go by only one name, except unlike the others, she has substance), visited my neighborhood this morning and absolutely knocked one out of the park. She was literally in my neighborhood - within blocks of my office - and I happened to be at my desk today.

Unfortunately, I had to hear her speech on the radio instead of in person because the 1,000 tickets they were prepared to give out quickly swelled to 5,000 and they all went faster than tickets to see the Grateful Dead. Mainly because Sarah's fans weren't so high they couldn't find the ticket office, but that's a subject for another day...

Her speech was fantastic, although I'll admit that there wasn't much to it. Then again, that's not what these "stump" events are all about. The big, flowery stuff is first for the convention and then the debates. It's like bringing out the good China for an important guest. For the day-to-day stuff - the speeches meant just to fire up the base - you get paper plates.

Still, this was the heavy duty Chinette plates and not those flimsy little generic ones that fold in half if two baked beans should decide to shatter a metaphor that's no longer serving its purpose.

The speech was great and hit all the right notes and each and every line was an applause line. Sarah was very well received here and, as it turns out, everywhere she goes. Which got me thinking. (Hey, if you think it's gruesome reading my thoughts, try living with them!)

Why is she so beloved by the right and completely despised by the left? I mean, we're talking levels of hate which transcend the simple explanation of party lines. They LOATHE her. They insist that she's stupid, uncultured, inexperienced - just a backwoods rube who's not ready for prime time. Which is fine by me, frankly. We've already seen what happens when the left underestimates an opponent and writes them off as a "hick" or a "dummy" or a "cowboy," right?

But it still bothered me: WHY do they hate her so? What is she but a mother who wanted to make a difference? She stepped up at her kids' school, got elected to the school board, then Mayor. She made a name for herself and was appointed to several State boards, then asked to run for Governor, which she won. It's the American success story! Americans everywhere should be standing and applauding, not trying to smear her reputation and tear her down. What's wrong with these people?

Well, that's where I started, and once I had the question I had to continue along the same path. I did some research and found some dunderheaded objections out there, ("she didn't sell the plane on ebay! She lied!") as well as some outright lies ("she tried to ban books") before I settled on what I think is at the core of the matter. Baby steps, people...

One of the main objections I've seen is that Sarah is a hunter. A corollary of that is the fact that as Governor, she put a bounty on wolves. And on the sites I've read, these people are absolutely apoplectic about both. "She's cruel to animals!" I've seen them say; "She kills buffalo/caribou/elk/substitute the furry animal of your choice!" It's actually kind of funny to see how they lose their minds over this, but maybe that's just me.

The other main objection to Sarah is that she's in favor of restricting abortion. That's right, here's a woman who's 'bitterly clinging' to her religion (to use obama's phrase) to the point that she actually believes what she's read in the Bible! She's opposed to abortion as convenience and would like to see fewer of them take place. I know, I know - she's an absolute radical.

Given these two items - and you're free not to take my word that those are the two major objections to Sarah - I was left with only one thing to do: mull them over until I could make them make sense. Animal rights and abortion rights. Two of the major constituencies within the democrat party today. Animal rights. Abortion rights. How are these two "squared" within the framework we're given, and how do they define the vile hatred heaped upon our nominee? What do they have in common, or what do they say about each other?

Animal rights: the belief that animals are at least the equivalent of humans in the eyes of the law and therefore deserve every possible legal protection.

Abortion rights: the belief that a woman has the right to terminate her pregnancy at any time prior to birth, and in more extreme cases, inducing birth if necessary to do the job.

And then, it hit me: it's more than the idea that this is the left's beliefs and the right believes the exact opposite. It's the simple fact that the left values the lives of animals more than they do the lives of unborn humans, and they can't allow anyone to harm the fuzzy little darlings or encourage the birth of wrinkled pink raisins.

I don't see any way to draw any other conclusion and if you can, I'd love to hear it...

Oy what a weekend. Good, bad and ugly, I suppose...

Friday was my 8 hour day and while it seems like such a little stretch between 8 hours and 9, ("that little hand just has to go around 60 times but it feels like forever" as someone famously said), it was a completely new world: traffic is different and I get home in time to play with the kids instead of just sitting right down to dinner. So what did I do with my "extra" hour? I mowed the lawn.

Whoa there, big guy. You'd better pace yourself before you run into an early grave! I mean, what's next - cleaning the garage? Oh, shut up. It had to be done and after having won a just victory over the code enforcement Nazis I didn't want to rest on my laurels and risk another citation. So I mowed the stupid lawn/weeds.

Now, each time I do that is a new experience in itchiness. My eyes start running like an East Kenyan in a marathon and breathing becomes a chore, (so you can see why I'm so eager to do it). But in doing so I came to two conclusions: the living part of my lawn is barely doing so and I need to find out when to weed-N-feed the stupid thing, and, my weeds are hearty and widespread.

If anyone can clue me in to the weeds and what it takes to kill the bastards I'd be forever grateful. They're a deep green, rather cloverish in shape, grow in clusters and have shallow but very long roots. They generally don't grow too high but if left for a time - say 2 weeks or so - they can get to be about 6-10 inches high. I plan to take a sample into that orange-themed retailer and see what they have to say, but I'd rather hear from someone who's actually engaged the enemy.

Saturday was The Wif's day to go spend with her mom. It has been since about mid-June (if you recall) and will be for the foreseeable future, I imagine. Each week she takes one kid with her and this was "M's" turn, leaving me with the Knuckleheads. Being the brave sort that I am, I decided we'd go to Sam's Club.

We had a few things we needed and it was time to pay our annual dues so it seemed like something that would be worthwhile. And as soon as The Binkenheimer got freaked out by the first Halloween decor, it was worth it. We cruised around and got all the samples we could, (guys gotta have lunch, you know), picked up the few things we came for and went to see more Halloween decorations. That's where the wheels fell off...

I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I had the boys in the cart when I went to try and 'activate' one of the displays. Before I was able to do that, I had only one Knucklehead in the cart and another on the floor screaming his head off. I'm not sure if he wanted to help me start the thing or if he wanted a closer look of if he was trying to run away. All I know is that D-Man was first sitting on the floor, then up and screaming and rubbing his arse.

My first thought was to comfort my kid - who's wouldn't be? Then an incident came to mind of how, just a couple of years back the kids' cousin was in town and fell off the back of a photographer's platform. The tech was worried enough and filled out an incident report in case they wanted to sue the place, I guess. I realized that I wanted nothing to do with a lawsuit, so I wanted nothing to do with a report and went about comforting/quieting my son.

It was only later that night that I discovered his backside looked as if he'd been horsewhipped with a real horse. Bruises all over his right cheek and down his right hammy. I'm seriously afraid of sending him to day care on Tuesday if he still looks like that, it's that bad. Then again, odds are good that I'll already know the people they'll call, but who wants to chance it?

I should've got that incident report.

And Sunday was no picnic either. The Wif was browsing Craigslist, as is her wont, when she discovered her latest BEST! FIND! EVER! She found a corner china hutch. It fits in the corner! It's knotty pine! It's fifteen dollars! It's in Parker...

That's where she lost me. That's where I gave her a look that said, "are you joking?" That's where I asked if she found it on Hell4Husbands.com. That's where I decided I'd be spending 2 1/2 hours going to Parker and back instead of watching the beginning of the Broncos game.

So I've got this hutch in the bed of my truck and three rapidly-tiring kids in car seats. They have promised to help me move the hutch inside, but naps must be had first. By me, if nobody else.

But the Broncos won, there's a new hutch in the corner of our dining room, (The Wif failed in at least one mission: I could lift it all by myself - a rarity around here) and The Wif is happy. Now I'm going to bed, where I'll be happy. Until tomorrow morning, that is...

I didn't mention it at the time, but my City-Related Activities recently escalated from citations/warnings to all-out fines. Well, fine anyway. I received a notice that I owed the city 100 American because I was found to be in "non-compliance" after the 1st warning. This interested me - which is to say INFURIATED me - because I knew I had completely and somewhat-willingly complied with every little city note that found its way into our humble abode.

So I was wondering which citation I had missed: lawn not mown with blades facing magnetic north? Wearing boxers instead of briefs? Toilet paper hung in improper overhand fashion? This meant I had to call the number on the fine notice, only to realize that the number was for accounts receivable instead of Eva Braun, who wrote the citation.

Little matter, so I left a message asking why I was being fined. The clerk called me back but my otherwise fine cell service, (I won't mention them by name but it rhymes with "Frint"), missed the call. She left me a message saying the information she had said I was being fined because my trailer wasn't moved off the 'unimproved' area within the deadline.

Well, this set me off just a little bit (READ: Nuclear) because I distinctly remember moving - by hand - the trailer the evening prior to the deadline. After receiving this information I waited a day to cool off and then called Eva to plead my case.

We went back and forth a bit and I told her my story. She told me her lies side. We paused with her saying she'd look at the audit trail and either she or her supervisor would call me back...

Well it must've been worse on her end than I thought, because she called back in about 10 minutes with some flimsy tissue of an explanation and said she'd do me a favor and negate the fine. YooHoo!

Still, just to be sure I tracked down her home address, telephone number and previous career track. Wouldn't you know it? She used to be a cop...

MOVIE REVIEW...

OK - I'm finally starting to get my money out of The Netflix. What with me trying to crank out a movie a week and our Friday night kids' movie night, we're seeing some turnaround on those red envelopes. So here's my latest review...

Today's movie: 1408. It's about a debunker of supernatural phenomena who becomes intrigued with the history of a peculiar hotel room -- #1408. He tries to make a reservation but is told the room is "unavailable." His publisher's lawyer says they can make the reservation under the discrimination law, and off he goes.

After the manager unsuccessfully tries to dissuade him, under threat of lawsuit he is given the key and goes to the room. It's a perfectly normal looking room and he's unimpressed. Then the fun starts; strange things start happening and being the cynic he is, he keeps looking for logical explanations. Then it ramps up.

It's an Über-creepy movie and the effects are fantastic. But then, it's based on a story by Stephen King, so if it didn't scare you you'd ask for your money back, right?

I won't get into the details and certainly won't give away the ending, but I can say that it's one of the few movies that I really enjoyed even though I was able to guess the ending fairly early on. It's scary without being gory, so if you think that sounds like you, check it out.

J.O.T.W...

Five cannibals get appointed as programmers in an IT company. During the welcoming ceremony the boss says: "You're all part of our team now. You can earn good money here, and you can go to the company canteen for something to eat. So don't trouble the other employees". The cannibals promise not to trouble the other employees.

Four weeks later the boss returns and says: "You're all working very hard, and I'm very satisfied with all of you. One of our developers has disappeared however. Do any of you know what happened to her?" The cannibals disown all knowledge of the missing developer.

After the boss has left, the leader of the cannibals says to the others: "Which of you idiots ate the developer?"

One of the cannibals raises his hand hesitantly, to which the leader of the cannibals says: "You FOOL! For four weeks we've been eating team leaders, managers, and project managers and no-one has caught on. Now YOU go and eat ONE developer and it got noticed!!

Unless we already have...

(Via: http://www.deafstuffnmore.com/Merchant2/graphics/00000001/new%20york%20skyline.jpg)

Oh man oh man, they're wearing me down around here! Earlier tonight, The Bink went over and - as far as I know - without provocation, opened the front door. Not just unlocked the door; he OPENED it. Something he should know he's not allowed to do. But, that seems to be where he hones his skills the most.

Of course, now that he's played his hand and we know he can, steps will be taken. Like, I'll be bricking in the door - something like that.

And it's not just the fear of him wandering out unnoticed sometime or letting Freddy into the house in the middle of the night that's a concern. The problem is exactly what happened tonight: that he'll let a cat or a dog out to terrorize the neighborhood. Yes, that fast-as-lightning little pain in the butt, "Killah" escaped and spent several hours roaming the 'hood and scaring the heck out of The Wif.

She's only recently returned to this side of the walls, only to escape into the garage with her war games partner, our next older cat. Those two will play themselves stupid out there.

OOPS! Too late...

The other day I came home from work to find a 3 foot stretch of our kitchen wall painted a lovely shade of What-The-Hell-Is-That and The perpetrator was still at work. So I shot her dead.

No, of course not, but looking back I may have wanted to consider the option a bit longer. See, the walls between and above the cabinets are apparently going to be a shade of blue. And not "Springtime Mist" (or whatever), blue -- this is more like a Thomas blue with some gray mixed in. BUT THAT'S NOT ALL...

If you order now we'll cover that vertical span next to the fridge in iron-enhanced blood! That's right - this place is going to be so dark it'll make the Batcave look like Superman's Fortress of Solitude. Seriously, who's her design consultant, Miles of Moles?

When I made polite mention a load groan, I was informed, "bold colors are IN now." Of course, I'm smart experienced enough to know that that phrase really means, "I'll be re-doing it again in a couple of years." "Or next week if I end up not liking it."

Eh, what do I care? Well, except that I'll be the one installing the new lights, natch.

The biggest pain right now happens to come in the form of a 3 year old boy. OUR 3 year old boy; D-Man...

Over Labor Day weekend the boys had just woke up and were making rather quiet mischief as we listened in on the monitor, when the monitor suddenly went dead. Knowing they had either turned off the base or changed the channel, I got up and headed in when I heard a large crash. Once in the room I saw a broken SpiderMan lamp and two frightened little boys.

Avoiding the shards of broken light bulb I led them from the room and down to breakfast. Mommy and I then contemplated their fate. She decided that they would do without the lamp for the un-named future. Sounds great in practice, right? Well, with nightfall coming sooner and sooner, I found it fairly difficult to scrape poop from two tiny little butts in the dark. Why was I being punished?

The other part is, we don't know who did what to break the lamp, (I said we needed video monitors, but nooooooo), and that seems unlikely to change: Who did it was always, 'the other one' and 'what happened' has been, 'I don't know.'

Those of you with boys in your life need not write in to say 'Get used to it' - I had brothers.)

The problem is, D-Man has been acting suspiciously in that he's stopped blaming his brother. So he's guilty. But he clams up, won't admit it and - worse yet - lies about it all too often. It's about as frustrating as can be. I tell him if he tells the truth I'll give him a hug and a kiss and he can have snack again, but he just clams up. Which is much better than the lying, but still a pain.

So we'll ride this out. After all, we knew there would be challenges along the way and this wasn't the first and won't be the last. But until then, UUUUGGGGGGHHHH!

So, how am I coping with all this? Why The Netflix, natch! My most recent feature was a little number called The Sick House. It takes place in an abandoned children's hospital which was built over a 16th century 'plague hospital.' Let me safely say that none of you will enjoy more than 2 minutes of this movie. At the very beginning.

Not me, though. I loved it. Keeping you abreast of movies you'll hate is just one of the services we offer. You're welcome.

Well, I don't think I've said much about John McCain during this 18 year long campaign season because there's not much about him that excites the political juices. Don't get me wrong - his is a fantastic story about heroism, physical endurance and the great American Dream; I just can't get lathered up about his political tendencies. This guy goes against his party's leadership and principles, and now he's our candidate? Sorry, but I'm just not convinced. Sure I'll vote for him but, meh.

Still, he was at least better than the other two: a suit so empty that moths refuse to eat it and a career politician whose main skills seem to be getting elected from Delaware and never passing up an opportunity to insult an ethnic group. And no, I'm not insulting Delaware. I drove through it one hour. It's just that it's the second-smallest state in a deeply-liberal stronghold. Small wonder they'd elect a deeply-liberal Senator with the second-smallest brain.

But now things get interesting. The addition of Sarah 'Hubba Hubba' Palin to the ticket has already been more entertaining than "Ishtar" and plantar's warts combined. (The pic is from Lumby but I'm not completely sure where he stole it from.)

One of the best and most notable result of adding Sarah The Babe to the ticket is that it points out the utter hypocrisy on the left! And it's not just on one issue - it's everywhere out there...

First off, the national organization for women's response was to say that, well, she's not 'really' a woman. Now, we DID see the name of the group in question, right? They're supposed to be a group of women FOR women. One might think that would include concern for their professional advancement, no? Perhaps a thought about women's equality in the workplace? So here's a woman who is the very symbol of being self-made and rising through the ranks to candidate for the second-most powerful person in the free world - and she doesn't count? Why - because she had her Down Syndrome child instead of aborting it? Sheesh.

Speaking of that, why the great glee from the left over her daughter's pregnancy? Is it simply the human failing brings them such joy? Besides, why is another teen out of wedlock pregnancy a thing for celebration? Not that the Palin girl seems to fit the normal mold and I'm sure the family will work things out for the best, but what's the point - Ha ha, you're human? But not to worry - all she has to do to get back in their good graces is abort the baby.

Speaking of the family, how has the left become such champions for women staying home to take care of kids? Aren't they always telling us that it's conservatives who want women in the home barefoot and pregnant? Suddenly things seem to have changed a bit, it would seem. I love the Orwellian aspect of that.

In short, she's making the left abandon all their principles rhetoric because it means nothing to them. They want power at all costs and will stand for or say ANYthing they think will get it. So why the ultra-personal, rabid, LYING attacks against this successful, strong woman, (her husband is the father of the girl's child, she tried to ban books from the library, her youngest child is actually ALSO her girl's kid -- ALL LIES)? Because she scares the crap out of them.

When hillary didn't get the nod they new they had a bunch of angry shrews who had to be placated. In fact, there are all kinds of reports out there about former hillary voters who were planning to vote McCain out of spite. The addition of Sarah Palin makes that even more likely. Watch out - this is going to get better.

And did I mention that she's hot?

You know how they always say that the cobbler's kids have no shoes? You don't? What are you, some kind of Philistine? What's a Philistine? You're kidding, right?!? What's a cobbler? You've got to be yanking my chain! What have... -- ... What are...?

OK. Let's take a breath. It can't be as bad as all that. Perhaps we should start over...

You know how the IT geek's kid's computer never works? (Yes, that's better) Well, that's what I was up against last week. Well, that and a rather nasty head cold which The Wif is convinced was strep (in her), a possible sinus infection in two of the three children (they're interchangable at this point), and perfectly over-played in me. Still, I'm starting to believe that nausea, bloody nasal discharge, persistent headache and extreme fatigue are clues that something more serious than a "sniffle" is at work.

That's why I totally promise to get it checked out next time it happens. No, seriously: My brother dated this chick who's cousin completely... Wait. Where was I? Oh yeah -- my busted computer.

So I buy this "new" computer to replace one that's being a huge pain in the butt and guess what? The new one's a pain in the butt, too. There's the bad news; ANY computer is a pain in the butt with even the least excuse to be so. HOWEVER! This household is equipped with an IT geek who's well-versed in all manner of electron-wrangling and any butt-pains should be quickly dealt with!

Yeah, should be. The truth lies elsewhere. Namely in the fact that when I'm home I suddenly become a user and expect only one thing: the darn box to work! I want Email! Internet! Speed! Access! The World At My Fingertips And No Questions From Mr. Computer Guy! Just make it work and keep it working!!!

The only problem is with a single word in the above list: 'Access.' I - like many of you - have about two dozen online accounts/identities and I do a pretty good job of keeping track of most of my logon names. The passwords are a different story...

I have a certain password I use for the "social networking" sites to which I belong and it's strong and certain. I use a numerical password for other sites - which is not at all constant across them all, (strangely enough, our bank has the lowest bar to cross -- password-wise). I also use a third password for certain things for which I have no explanation: they just are.

Now, a brief aside, (as if ALL of this isn't): I use Biblical passages for several of my passwords. On the upside, it's very easy to enter the password reminders; You can leave yourself the hint, "a virtuous wife" to be reminded of "Prov:31" or you can leave "have a great day!" for "Psalm_118." The down-side is that you have to know your Bible.

But that's not really a down-side now, is it?

...

Anywho, as you might imagine, I'm leading up to saying that I really don't know which password I used when I set up the account which controls this page. Worse yet, there isn't a password reminder prompt here. Oh sure they've got a customer service section where I could have my action reset, but I really don't want to have to enter, "7Mx4g32LT" as my password forever.

Because I know I'm too lazy to change it. Don't worry -- I'll figure it out and if I'm back today it's because I wrote this on the downstairs computer.

Because I'm too lazy to go upstairs and crack the password...

Stick with me. And Thanks for sticking with me...